The Second Cradle Affair
by peppymint
Summary: Nono is plotting. Warning-fem!Squalo


_Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one_

 _I have been writing, I promise. I just need to find the time to type it up._

 _In the meantime, enjoy this little fic_

 **Part One: Nono**

Don Timoteo Vongola, Ninth boss of the Vongola family, sighed as he stared moodily into the glass of wine one of the servants had poured. Truly, he had nothing to brood over. He still enjoyed his health in his advanced years, though his legs were not as strong as they once had been. And while he still grieved for his sons, he had been blessed with a strong heir who would move the familgia in a new, or rather old, better direction. Best of all, his youngest was speaking to him again.

There was just one thing. He wanted grandchildren curse it all. Little babies to spoil in his golden years. Unfortunately, Tsunayoshi was barely eighteen, nowhere near ready to marry. As for Xanxus, well, one could make the argument his son was married to his work. As far as he was aware, and he was aware of quite a bit, there were not _any_ women, or men for that matter.

The Ninth paused; glass half way to his lips. No, that was not completely true. There was a woman, one who had been at his son's side for years. She was even beautiful, not that looks mattered to Xanxus, long silver hair with eyes so pale they burned. Nono set the glass back down. Now, how to get his son to realize his Second was in fact _a woman._

The second Sword Emperor (the first person to refer to her as Empress had died messily) had not been publically approached since that visiting Mafioso back when she was fifteen. Upon being informed who he was talking to, the man had fainted, and Squalo's reputation had only grown since then.

It didn't help that the vast majority of the Varia tended to come to gatherings in uniform, and Squalo was no exception. Offhand, Timoteo could not ever recall seeing her in a dress. But that could change. The winter ball was coming up, and if he ordered Squalo to wear a specific gown she would have no choice but to do so.

Something pale blue, the Ninth reflected to himself; that shimmered in the light. Add some diamond jewelry and she would be a vision. Timoteo was sure some young man would take the bait. After that, well, in some ways his son could be very predictable. Squalo was, and would always, belong to Xanxus. All he had to do was wait; and trust his son to be true to his nature.

 **Part Two: Xanxus**

Xanxus glared at nothing in particular as he stared into his cup, wondering why the hell he was here. The old man knew he hated affairs like this. He had better things to do than exchange idle chit chat with trash. He also wasn't thrilled with this monkey suit the geezer had insisted he wear. There was nothing wrong with his uniform! He resisted the urge to tug at his collar, knowing it was a sign of weakness.

The red-eyed man scowled. The expression deepening as those closest to him melted another ten feet back. Cowards. Only a handful of those present had any real worth. The old man and his guardians, the brat and his, the Arcobaleno, Cavallone he added grudgingly, and Squa . . .

The feel of his rain moving away caused Xanxus to look up sharply. Turning his head, he saw Squalo being lead onto the dance floor by a man a few years older than himself. The swordsman did not look at all herself. Her long silver hair had been elegantly coiffed and pinned, accented with small aquamarines. A full length gown flowed around her. The layers of silk hand dyed to go from colorless to an ice blue. Snow white gloves came up to her elbows, hiding the prosthetic hand. That combined with the swordsman's instinctive grace gave her a look that could only be described as ethereal.

Xanxus suspected most of the guests did not even recognize the Strategic Captain of the Varia; for example, that idiot who was escorting Squalo onto the floor. The assassin felt a flash of white hot rage as the man pulled _his shark_ against himself. Regardless of the fact the other's hand was professionally placed at the small of her back.

How dare he! Squalo was his! The crystal glass in Xanxus' hand began to take on an ominous glow. The liquid bubbled from the heat of wrath flames. Placing the cup on a nearby table, he strode towards the dance floor, uncaring of the scent of burning cloth.

The assassin did not bother to announce his intentions; casually body checking the lesser Mafioso out of the way before sweeping his second into a spin. The pair didn't miss a step. A glare from blood red eyes was all it took to send the other man scurrying away to lose himself in the crowd.

As the dance ended, Xanxus reached up to tangle his hand in silver hair; hair she had grown for him, before drawing her into a possessive kiss. "From now on," he growled voice low. "You dance only with me."

Squalo merely inclined her head to the one man she would ever bow to. "As you wish." Which we all know means, I love you.

 _Finis_

 _Hope you liked it and please review_

 _This is my first foray into this fandom_

 _As for Nono, he is patting himself on the back. Now he just needs to get them in bed._


End file.
